


We'll miss you at Christmas

by HarrogateBelmont



Series: Home for the Holidays [3]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27379648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarrogateBelmont/pseuds/HarrogateBelmont
Summary: Robin finally talks to her mother.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Home for the Holidays [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995508
Comments: 16
Kudos: 30





	We'll miss you at Christmas

Strike had just shown up at Robin’s flat, carrying a prepared lasagne from Mark and Spencer. Max was working late, and Robin had just put the dish in the oven when her phone rang. Looking down, she saw Mum and Dad appear on the screen, and she gave a sigh. 

She had been quite relieved to talk to her father earlier in the day, and had even been looking forward to a chat with her mother, but now, with Strike relaxed on the sofa, giving lots of attention to Wolfgang, she was no longer in the mood to talk. If she was being honest, she wasn’t in the mood to have this conversation with Strike in earshot.

“Hi Mum,” she said, finally answering on the third ring. 

“Hi,” said Linda Ellacott, sounding chipper. “I’m sorry I missed you earlier.”

“Oh, no worries,” said Robin. “Mum - hold on one minute - I’m just putting something in the oven.” She put her phone on mute, and said, “It’s my mum, and I have to run downstairs and look something up for her - I should be up by the time it’s done, but if the timer goes off, can you check it?”

Strike turned around and looked towards the kitchen. “Yeah, alright. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “Just need to look something up for her in my room.”

She unmuted, and said, “Sorry about that - I’m back. Didn’t want to multitask with the food.”

“It’s alright,” said Linda. “I’m impressed that you’re cooking.” Robin laughed as she turned on the light in the hallway and headed towards her bedroom. “Don’t be,” she said. “It’s packaged, but not too unhealthy.” 

Robin’s heart was pounding in her chest. She dropped to her bed, sitting on the edge, and idly playing with the string to the donkey balloon that Strike had given her for her birthday. It was almost entirely deflated, but she couldn’t bear to get rid of it. She planned to hang it on the wall once all of the air was finally out of it.

She wasn’t afraid. If Robin knew one thing, it was that her relationship with Strike was right. It was where she was meant to be, and she knew that her parents were mostly sensible people. She wanted, however, to set a few things straight with her mother, which meant having to be direct. She just had to wait for the right opening.

“How was your Christmas shopping?” Robin asked her mother.

“Oh, you know,” said Linda. “I just wanted to pick up a few things. It’s always so hectic, and I didn’t want to leave things to the last minute. Although,” she paused. “From what your father says, I have a few extra weeks to shop for you.”

Here it comes.

“What did Dad say, exactly?”

“He told me that you were going to Cornwall for Christmas, and that you’re going to come up to Masham sometime in January.”

“And…?”

“Well you tell me, Robin!” Linda’s voice had gone high-pitched. 

“And, did he tell you that I’ll be spending my time in Cornwall with Cormoran and his family, and that I’d like him to come with me when I visit in January?”

Silence. 

“He did.”

Robin couldn’t help feeling combative. “Well, I’m wondering if you have any questions about that?”

Linda sounded defeated. “You tell me what you want to tell me, Robin. I don’t know how to read you anymore. Your father also told me that you knew all about Matthew’s situation, and you never said a word about it. I had to find out from Jill Roberts in the corner store.”

Robin reminded herself that she was, in fact, thirty years old, and not a child. “Mum,” said Robin, firmly. “I don’t tell you things like that, because you get too upset, and then it’s too difficult for me to work out my own feelings. I’ve known about Matthew since March. I guessed when he was suddenly so willing to agree to everything and mediation, and he confirmed it. The thing is, I don’t care. I suppose you could almost say that I’m happy for him. It’s what he wanted. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I just … don’t think about it. You think about it more than I do.”

There was hurt in Linda’s voice. “Well if you’d told me this sooner, I wouldn’t talk about him. All you have to do is ask me to stop.”

“Okay then. Stop talking about Matthew. I’d rather talk about things that make me happy.”

“Cormoran?” Linda asked quickly.

“Yes,” said Robin. “But here’s the thing that you need to know. I don’t know what Matthew or his family were saying about me in Masham. I know there must have been gossip. I’m not an idiot and I also don’t like being the center of scandal. But my relationship with Cormoran was purely professional and platonic until just a few weeks ago.”

“I see,” said Linda. Her voice was back to its normal pitch. 

“I understand,” Robin continued, “why Matt was jealous. The truth is, I’ve been falling in love with Cormoran for years. I can admit that now. But he never did anything until I was ready.” 

There was a pause, and then Linda said, “We’ve never really done this, you know. You had - can I say his name - _Matthew_ \- since you were in school. I never really got to hear about any dates or, oh, I don’t know - what is courtship like in London these days anyway?”

Robin laughed outright now, both relieved and amused. “I don’t know how much of this stuff daughters are supposed to tell their mothers anyway,” she said. Then, slyly, “It’s been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began. But I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful offices at Denmark Street.”

Now it was Linda’s turn to laugh. “Take the piss at your old mother if you will. But tell me at least one or two nice things about Cormoran so that I can have something to defend your honor with.”

“Well, I suppose it all started getting serious when he accidentally punched me in the face with his elbow.”

“Robin!”

So Robin told her mother, briefly, about their difficult year, but mostly about the night of her birthday, leaving out the parts that her mother did not really need to know about. She talked about how she felt, for the first time in her life, that she really, truly had a best friend - and about how she trusted him above anyone else. 

“And… he’s currently sitting upstairs waiting for the lasagne to finish baking and entertaining Max’s dog.”

Sighing, Linda said, “I’m so happy, Robin. I really am. This is how it’s supposed to be, you know. It’s all your father and I ever wanted - for you to be happy. I’m glad we talked about this, and I think you’ve given me enough tidbits to defend your reputation in the village. We’ll miss you at Christmas, but I will be eager to hear all about your visit to Cornwall.”

“Thanks, Mum. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She hung up the phone, and sat on her bed quietly for a minute, just enjoying the satisfaction and peace of having everyone on her side. If she closed her eyes, she could see Strike, sitting around the table with her mother and father, laughing over one of her mother’s observations, and entertaining her father with stories of some of their more harmless and amusing clients. 

Her phone buzzed, and she looked down to see a text from Strike.

**Food ready. Do you need me to rescue you? C xxx**

Robin smiled. She didn’t need rescuing. But she was hungry. So she headed back upstairs, looking forward to time spent with her best friend, her partner, her love.

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, I have stolen a quote from _Pride and Prejudice_. Didn't want to footnote the story, but for those who did not catch it, I will cite it here - Lizzie talking to her sister, Jane: _It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began. But I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds at Pemberley._ Personally, I don't think it's a coincidence that Strike has Darcy hair. He's sort of a Colin Firth/Tom Burke hybrid in my mind, and has been that way since before I saw the TV series.


End file.
